Neil Leckman's Blog - Posts Tagged "virtual-cubicle"

The longer days and crisper nights were a sure sign for me that the holidays were on their way. Walking to school, kicking up fresh piles of leaves, with the smell of wood fires in the air, as people try to fight the morning chill, were always my favorite part of fall. When I got home I could see that mom had been brooding all day, trying no doubt to think up something horrid to say to my sister. In our family the fall stormy weather brought with it a storm of another kind, the full on, in your face, smack down family Christmas. This was preceded by a smaller event, the thankless giving dinner, the giving part was usually one bit of lip service, possibly followed by a food fight with the younger participants. Personally I had never been able to figure out the unwritten rules for engagement, and in fact they may have just been winging it all these years.

The only thing that I knew for sure is when someone asked, “Could you please pass me the…” whatever followed was irrelevant, because this was almost always followed by something sailing closely past my face. Mashed potatoes, corn, peas and once a nicely formed aerial glob of tomato soup, with one of those fish shaped soup crackers in the middle. I do give credit for the clearly defined first strike, which comes in response to the lobbed food, sometimes almost before the food has had time to reach its target. My cousin mike and I would warily look around the table at the squinty eyed glares of the adults, trying to gauge who it would be this year. He’d shrug as he looked at me, because all the adults looked primed and ready to fire at the sounding volley. Thankless giving was a full on family event, whereas smack down Christmas was a more intimate affair.
Prior to the smack down is the proper placement of the tree, so that participants have a full opportunity to crash into it, shattering bulbs and tinkling of tiny pieces of glass as they hit the floor ads a festive touch to things. One year my sister bought one of those Christmas trees made out of aluminum foil, with a spotlight that had a rotating colored disk in front of it. That was quickly discarded though in favor of a live tree, that was covered with flock to make it look like snow. Nothing like the scent of a chemically induced snow storm to cover that otherwise annoying smell of pine. Nothing beats the toxic high of being trapped in a small room with a chemically induced snow covered tree to enhance the smack down experience.

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It should be noted here, for those wanting to hold their own smack down Christmas, the day has to start out mellow and niceties shared between the soon warring parties. This adds a nice bit of irony to things.

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The day should begin with a nice hearty family breakfast, to ensure that stamina is maintained throughout the event. Gifts are exchanged, with lots of hugging, and appreciation shown. This is a crucial part now. Very soon regret should be expressed that more could not be given, due to budget restrictions, planter alignment, or whatever excuse immediately comes to mind. Regrets over a slovenly lifestyle that led to such cheap displays of affection, and some nice digs about errors made during an ill spent youth. Immediately this is followed up by some heartfelt shoving, with a couple of quick rabbit punches.

It is at this point that you can decide to wind things down a notch, or go full tilt into the main event. The best tactic seems to be a nice sucker punch to the back of the head of the other participant, as they turn, pretending lack of interest in further grief. Rules are out the door, except all sharp objects, or firearms be placed in a room separate from the festivities. Hair pulling, neck biting, floor thumbing using your opponents head are all allowed. There are no special awards for first blood, other than bragging rights. Rolling, slapping, kicking and of course punching are all encouraged. Spectators should try to find a large couch or overstuffed chair to sit in, this allows participants to bounce off the furniture and make you feel more like part of the event. After a good hard workout, cracking of ribs and noses time out is granted. This allows both parties to glare at each other as they gasp for air.

When the fight has been beat out of them both parties must be willing to get mushy and tearful, tearful apologies about unfair ploys expressed and hugs given. This is usually done just in time to pull that golden brown turkey out of the oven and placed mid table. Everybody expresses awe at such a wonderful feast and after a hasty prayer begin filling their plates. Laughter and crooked smiles are freely given through swollen lips and tears flow from partially swollen eyes as another festive holiday goes down in the record books. Thankfully for all this is followed by a somewhat silent night!!

The terrible chewing sound occupied our every waking moment now. It was only a matter of time before they worked their way to us and we became lunch.

“Rob isn’t there any way to stop them before they devour us?”

“I’ve been trying to work it out in my head but I still come up short. What we need are a couple of fifty pound dustballs.”

I looked at him shocked, “nothing else will work?”

“Hey, if I remember correctly it was you that joking said ‘create a couple of giant dust mites, what harm can they do?’ Well I think I have your answer to that question now!!”

“Well I didn’t know this would happen!!”

“Obviously”, and as he said that the south wall caved in and something monstrous blocked out the sun…

Crimson raindrops fall, large, fat with life, a soothing sound

Peaceful as the day fades and takes life away, somewhat profound

Mixing with the red clay it swirls down the large drain

Rapidly until the sun cracks the clay, leaving not one stain

Beneath the desert a rumble sounds, hungry once more

Phantom like it rises from the sand, “Last Chance Store”

Like a Venus flytrap draws them in with of sweet nectar

The smells of food cooking hang heavy in the dessert air

Red station wagon pulls in; family enters to get a meal

Windows shut, screams fill the air, and this can’t be real!!

It sinks into the ground leaving a large blood stain

That will vanish again with the afternoon rain

Drink the darkness, from faded flowers
It fills up the night, the lonely hours
Musical madness, the Devil’s dance
The voices inside, in acapella chants
Silence is golden, the Midas touch
Quiet is all I ask, is that too much?
Blank eyes, flaccid lips, faces of stone
I cut so often I hit the bone
Crimson rainbows and fading light
My lifeblood flows, we share the night

I come from a place of bad intent
Where happy days are never spent
A town of bad girls and boys
A place called Ev Illinois

Late on lazy summer days
Barbeque smoke creates a haze
The smell of cooking meat
Lies heavy in the summer heat

Rent a place here cheap
Keep an eye open when you sleep
Heed the warning I give
If you're lucky you might live

Click here for the entire interview.
Excerpts from the interview:

IDI – Who’s your target audience? What aspect of your writing do you feel targets that audience?

NL – I consider whoever my words land on to be my target, that’s why I like flash fiction, it’s a lot like using a shotgun. There are even people out there that write stories the length of a tweet, or 144 characters, now that’s challenging. It’s amazing what some people can do and that is the beauty of writing.

IDI – Everyone has their own dream. What’s yours… best seller, feature film adaption, fame, riches, Pulitzer?

NL – That people like what I write, plain and simple. I live by the philosophy, ‘If a novel falls in the woods and nobody read it, was it ever written?’

IDI – Everyone has visions of where they see themselves in the future, be it a year or five. Where do you see yourself in five years? Where did you see yourself five years ago? Did you make it there?

NL – Sitting in a little park feeding pigeons, I’m not sure why because I’m not that fond of them. I am wearing pants, which is a plus, and I have a big bag of crumbs. So even if I have no fans I do have the birds, and that’s something, I’m not sure what, but it’s mine!!

Click here to see books that are coming out soon.

Click here to see books in print on Amazon.

Click here to go to a page of some of my poetry.

I used to keep time in a box, precious moments I saved for some other day. The other day I fell and broke that precious box, driving slivers deep into my hands. They have become infected and puss runs from those slivers.



In the last few days the infection has become worse and in my fevered state I can feel all those moments I had saved slowly dripping away with my blood, rivulets of bright days mixed with the yellow putrescence. Each drop bringing me closer to that clandestine meeting with my maker, and when that happens someone will place me inside another box, and I shall remain there, all my days gone.

Her ghost stands, shimmering white and pale, smiling green eyes

Like the last night we were together, never saying our goodbyes

Behind her lurks a shape, foreboding and monstrous in intent

Forbidden thing of nature, evil incarnate, body twisted and bent

Smiling I step forward, devoid of fear, bereft of fright

The beast cries as I stab its eye, payment for that last night

Idyllic town peaceful days
Something hides in the haze
Quietly waits to be free
When it comes to devour me